Almost There
by Kihin Ranno
Summary: Venus returns after a devestating fight, and Kunzite learns that things aren't so hopeless as he once presumed. Sequel to Not So Simple Question.


Almost There  
Written for the Sailor Moon Monthly Fanfiction Challenge  
March 2008 Challenge - Character-a-Day  
Submitted for My Venus/Kunzite Claim at Fanfic100  
Prompt #72 - Fixed  
by Kihin Ranno  
1/1

Sequel to "Not-So-Simple Question"

He's surprised when he finds her standing at his balcony two weeks after their fight. He's more surprised to see her posture, stooped when she is normally straight and proud, weary when she is normally blessed with an abundance of energy. It's as if she's bearing some great weight, and he has to stop himself from crossing to her and wrapping her in his arms. She is always wary of being tender, but she will be even more adverse to it now.

"You should have sent word you were coming," Kunzite mutters, falling on criticism in his doubt. "Endymion could have been with me. Or worse, Jadeite."

She takes a moment before she exhales, not quite a sigh but it's entirely too close to it for his liking. He's never heard her sigh like that before – like she's tired. "Jadeite may have been a problem, but I doubt that Endymion would have very much to offer in opposition without looking like a hypocrite."

Kunzite blinks. He'd never guessed she'd known.

"Don't look so shocked," she admonishes, although her back is still turned. "I have excellent skills of deduction."

They both know that's not true; Venus has impeccable intuition, but it's Mercury who commands knowledge as easily as her cold waters. "Were you angry when you learned?"

"Well, that would make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?" she counters, her voice lilting just a little, daring him to say what will set them off again. She's baiting him, leaving a trail of beauty to blind him. That way he won't realize he's fallen into fire until she's ruined him.

He refuses to bite. He's better than that, and she should know it. "It's different with your Princess."

She pauses again before she answers. He can picture the face she's making, blue/gold eyes narrowing into concentrated slits while her mouth slants to the left. Her jaw will be sharp, her nostrils flaring, the vein on her neck darkening as the blood beneath her skin quickens. Involuntarily, he remembers fingers tracing the line of her jaw and teeth sinking into that spot on her neck. He remembers lashes fluttering and her mouth red and wide open.

"He makes her happy," she whispers. "For now, it is enough."

There are things he wants to ask her – things he needs to ask her. It's like stopping the ocean with a thought to hold his ground and not whisper in her ear, not have his lips so close to her skin that he can almost taste her, not ask her, "Don't I make you happy? Don't you see this isn't enough?"

But he knows he can stop the ocean. It's how he keeps sane.

"I can tell you're upset," he murmurs at last.

She laughs. It sounds like a death-rattle. "How?"

"You wouldn't have come otherwise." He swallows. "Mars is not the only one with pride."

It's a step farther than she wants him to take, and that's why he crosses the boundary. She whirls on him, eyes flashing more gold than blue, and in the darkness he can see exactly why she held her position for so long. Her fury stops in her throat when she realizes her mistake.

Or maybe it's just when she sees the look on his face.

He swears in a language she can't understand and moves, striding toward her like a furious angel. His hands frame her face, fingers brushing the edges of her jaw, but there is no tenderness in his touch now. Only fury, not for her, but whoever left the bruise on her cheek, whoever split her lip, whoever broke her nose. There are gashes on her forearm and a purple ring around her neck.

There's blood in his mouth.

"Who did this?" he demands.

She laughs again and looks away. "This isn't a fae's rhyme. You don't get to save me."

He turns her face again, and he is amazed that he controls himself enough so that he does not hurt her. "Amarante, please."

Her name. Her name stops all her malice, all her games and trickery. The ancient legends say that true names have a power, and never has that been truer for her, a warrior whose name was stolen and replaced with a title. He knows this better than anyone. He knows because he's the same.

He almost misses the whisper in return. "Jasper."

It's as much permission as he'll ever receive. His arms are around her like a lightning strike, shielding the maiden who must be the shield herself. She trembles in a silent storm, but she doesn't cry. He's never seen her cry, and something tells him that when a single tear from her eye could rip the world apart.

"Tell me." His words her are muffled in her hair.

She turns her face so that her paler cheek rests against his chest. "We were attacked."

His grip around her tightens. He assumes the worst. "Who?"

"I don't know," she hisses. Her indignation at her ignorance rings familiar. "Devils. Monsters from the deep. From our world or yours or some other that we have never seen before. We were just… Serenity and Jupiter and I were just sitting at the fountain. I don't even remember what we were talking about, and then before I knew it, some beast came out of the sky." She shook even harder. "It wanted the princess."

He kisses the top of her head, to hell with her stubborn pride.

"I didn't move," Venus snarls, her fingers curling into his tunic. "I just stood there. If Jupiter hadn't shot it down, I—"

"That why you have allies," Kunzite assures her. "They're not just for decoration."

She looks up at him briefly, her eyes asking the question her tongue does not dare. Have you ever been frozen? He tries not to answer her, but the Venusian curse that follows reveals his failure. He thinks of telling her that it's different with him. He was trained for war, not for a state ritual, but he knows it will change nothing. She's always taken her duty more seriously than anyone would believe.

"Then more came," she continues. "From the sky, from beneath our feet, from behind the corridors… Almost a hundred demons ripping and tearing, and every one of them reaching out for Serenity."

"Is she all right?" he asks. He doesn't ask himself whether he's actually concerned or not.

A tiny glimmer in her miserable eyes. "Bastards didn't lay a claw on her."

He smiles to the shadows.

"I wasn't hurt that badly," she explains. "They sent me to one of the lesser healers." A pause and now her arms are around his neck. She still doesn't look at him. "I came here instead."

"That was risky," he says, repeating his earlier concern.

"I don't care." A deep breath. "I had to see you."

For just a moment, he allows himself self-pity. He can stand it in front of her. "Why?"

She meets him head on with her eyes and it's like being run down by wild horses. Even though he's faced over a hundred men with a broken sword, even though he's dressed down men who would sooner cut out his tongue than listen to his words, even though he's been caressed by the Reaper and just barely set free without so much as a wince, he shivers now. Her eyes are the most terrifying thing God ever made. He's a fool to remain before her, but he knows he can't turn away.

"The whole time, no matter how hard I tried, I kept thinking… what if I never saw you again?"

She kisses him, and for the first time, he entertains the idea that she means it.

They don't say anything else that night. They also don't make love or have any other passionate embraces. They don't do much of anything they're used to doing. Instead, they simply stand there and hold on until morning.

When the dawn comes, it's almost like an admission of love.


End file.
